


Weekend

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ray gets lucky.





	Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He spreads his leg wider and groans, leaning back into the worn couch cushions in the abandoned warehouse. Or not so abandoned anymore. Ray suspects Philip’s not just working there, but _living_ there, and that’s just sad. If Ray’s place were any better, he’d offer Philip the couch—or better yet, his bed. But Ray’s place is a shithole, and his landlady gets pissy when he takes cute boys home. 

Philip’s the cutest of them, though his serious attitude sometimes gets in the way of that. Not that Ray wants him to be exuberant or anything. People that are _too_ happy drive Ray up the wall. Philip should still smile more. Sure, he’s an addict with a record and nobody better to hang out with than his dirtbag lawyer, but he’s also reasonably good looking and good at making money. It’s not all bad. 

At least he’s not all _serious_ in the moment. He’s not exactly upbeat, either—his eyes are just hazy, distant and distracted, probably the way he wants to be. Ray knows that’s all he is to Philip in these moments: a convenient distraction. Something that burns and consumes but doesn’t wreck as much as heroin. It’s a shit reason to sleep with someone. But Ray figures lots of people have sad sex, and he’s not going to miss out just because they’re both too ruined to make tender love in bed. Philip might be wasted on a serious girlfriend, anyway. He looks best like this: down on his knees in a dirty warehouse. 

His mouth is open wide, stretched around Ray’s cock, pink lips slick with spit and pre-cum. He bobs slowly up and down on it, obviously awkward, never taking it all the way, and Ray doesn’t force it. He wants to. If he were a younger man, he’d probably be bucking his hips up into Philip’s hot mouth. He’d fist his fingers in Philip’s dirty blond hair and shove him down. But Ray’s older and experienced. He knows how to behave himself during a blow job. Besides, Philip has it rough enough without a fucked-raw throat.

So Ray just leans back and enjoys himself. He makes no effort to be quiet; he lets his grunts and languid moans echo throughout the empty space. He loves the debauched slurping sounds and the way Philip occasionally chokes or groans around him. Philip’s hands are on his legs, sometimes in tight fists, sometimes awkwardly shifting, sometimes holding on. He takes too much again and nearly gags. Ray lightly nudges his forehead back, pushes him off, and pants, “Don’t take too much.”

Philip splutters and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. Then he goes right back down. Ray benevolently wraps his hand around his base to keep something like that from happening again. As much as he’d _love_ to fuck Philip’s throat, he’d rather keep the experience good enough for both of them that it might happen again. They’ll work up to more if and when Philip ever asks for lessons. Not that he should need it. He’s old enough to have fucked plenty of people. He’s handsome enough. Everything about him is a turn on for Ray, from the little gold ring in his nose to the scraggly length of his soft hair. Ray even likes his stubble, and the calm but desperate way he comes to Ray for every little thing. That includes something to do on a Friday night that’ll take the edge off but not leave tracks.

Philip gives an experimental suck, tongue laving wetly at the underside of Ray’s cock, and Ray grunts, “Almost there, kid.”

Philip makes some sort of indistinguishable noise that feels _fantastic._ Ray pets back through his hair encouragingly. Then Ray stops admiring Philip, stops marveling at his own luck, and just surrenders to the pure ecstasy of a hot mouth sucking him off. 

He last a good while anyway. Eventually, it catches up with him. He warns, “Gonna—” then clenches up and hisses, pouring out. Philip makes a choking noise but stays around him, adjusting as more shoots out. Ray moans deliriously. 

He lets himself bask in that warm, dizzying pleasure. Only when Philip pulls off does Ray tell him, “You can spit it out.”

Philip’s already swallowing. Which is great. Ray loves watching shit like that. If he were ten years younger, it’d get him hard again. Instead, he just idly looks. 

Philip takes a few seconds to recover too. He licks his lips and winces, maybe hating the taste, but it’s too late now. Ray should’ve brought him chocolate or something. 

Ray offers, “Want some help with your boner?”

Philip snorts. Ray figured he wouldn’t like that word, but Ray talks how he talks. Predictably, Philip mutters, “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ray insists, “Get up here.” He pats the couch. He might be a terrible person in general, but he’s _not_ a terrible lover. If he gets off, so does whoever he’s fucking. 

Besides, he’s kind of grown attached to Philip, in his own weird way. And not just for the money or blow jobs. 

With a sigh, Philip surrenders. He climbs up into Ray’s lap and gets the reward that he deserves.


End file.
